How One B-Student Adapts to Spring Break

You can take the business student out of business school, but you can't take business school out of the soon-to-be grad

by Kate Ngo

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Kate Ngo
Cornell University
Class of 2007

Diversity Rocks
Viña del Mar, Chile
(Top Row L to R: Gary Chan '08, Delano Ford '08, Christina Keller '07
Bottom Row L to R: Kate Ngo '07, Alexia Burnett '07, Adrienne Martinez '08, Jenny Ortiz '07)

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Business school students are typically characterized by their enthusiasm, competitiveness, and high achievement. Nevertheless, by springtime even the average, healthy, second-year MBA may show symptoms of senioritis—lethargy, increased appetite (for that liquid diet, no less), and a preoccupation with being anywhere but on campus.

And so, as the last semester of business school begins to wind down, I take joy in celebrating one of the greatest indulgences of being in college: spring break. With my roommate, Christina Keller, studying abroad at Universidad Católica in Santiago, Chile, what better excuse to escape, visit one of your best friends, and blow 1,071,500 pesos in one week?

Departing from JFK with Johnson School friends Alexia Burnett, Adrienne Martinez, and Jenny Ortiz, I leave Ithaca on a Thursday, narrowly missing a Friday snowstorm that plagues an entire region, complete with traffic delays and flight cancellations. While a number of our classmates idle on U.S. highways and at airports, we are 2,500 miles away, 40,000 feet in the air, sipping cabernet sauvignon. So what if we are toasting with plastic cups?

Happy Hours…and Hours

Fueling our momentum, the arrival on a Friday evening is timely to partake in the weekend nightlife of Santiago, which, to put it mildly, is far more advanced than that of Ithaca. If anyone outside Ithaca knows anything about Ithaca, it's probably that bar time ends at 1:30 a.m. While at the beginning this was unacceptable, Johnson students quickly learned to adapt by throwing parties earlier, meeting friends promptly after class, and planning happy hours directly at Sage Hall.

Thus, our time in Chile would require some adjustment. Here, partygoers adhere to a strict schedule. After taking a siesta around 3 p.m., residents have dinner at 10 p.m., roll into a nightclub close to 1 a.m., and hit the sack just before dawn.

Back at school, dining out, social events, and general merriment are always sandwiched between classes, meetings, and working sessions. During spring break in Chile, eating out, meeting friends, and throwing parties is uninterrupted. There is no time for work in this country. Again, as Johnson students, we quickly learn to adapt.

Chile-ing Out

For example, as the weekend concludes and before the city of Santiago returns to the normal workweek, we narrowly escape again, this time jetting 740 miles north to San Pedro de Atacama, a sleepy colonial village located in the driest desert of the world. While San Pedro is one of Chile's most popular destinations, it remains largely undeveloped. Despite its scarce amenities, it has access to a number of natural landscapes and is deep-rooted in South American history.

During the day, when it is desert hot, we visit archaeological sites, bike to the Valle de la Luna, ride on horseback to ancient caves, view spectacular geysers, and bathe in hot springs. In the evenings, we wander the town, discovering a cafe with slow but free Internet, even slower service, and a tripped-out but darling waiter. Fulfilling our definition of "chill," it becomes our favorite hangout spot.

Our next and last stop is Viña del Mar and the surrounding area of Valparaiso. As a resort town with colorful buildings and long stretches of beach, Viña, as the locals call it, is a perfect finale to our time in Chile.

Inexpensive buses transport us to the top of Bellavista Hill, where we visit La Sebastiana, a historic house designed by poet Pablo Neruda. Meeting up with first-year classmates Gary Chan and Delano Ford, we enjoy dinner seaside, belt out a little karaoke, and spend lazy afternoons on the sand. Most memorably, we also make friends with some kindly locals—after all, Valparaiso is home to the Chilean Navy.

Business-Minded

Indeed, there is no place like home, but it is great to escape business school and its accompanying assignments, projects, and information overload. Unfortunately, I am realizing that escape attempts may be in vain, as business school always manages to follow.

A few years ago, I could have done these wine tours at Undurraga and Concho y Toro without giving a thought to their business operations. But as I have learned in Statistics, an early harvest may avoid heavy rainfalls, which cause serious damage to the crop.

On the other hand, some rain is beneficial, and if the harvest is delayed, it may greatly increase the value of the wine. As this week in Chile demonstrates, if given the opportunity, I simply cannot resist the notion of a well-constructed decision tree.

On a separate but similarly mood-ruining occasion, I walk up to a local artisan who is selling handmade crafts and ceramics. Instead of enjoying the thrill of the hunt, I wonder to myself how this merchant uses segmentation and price discrimination to estimate my willingness to pay.

To the American tourist like myself, an authentic clay pot has a low price elasticity, and through my purchase at a premium price, I help her extract more profit margin. Who knew that at the same time, I can extract all the fun out of bargain shopping?

If business school has turned me into a dork, then I am lucky to have not impaired my ability to make friends. In fact, whether I am in Santiago, Valparaiso, Tokyo, New York, Boston, or Ithaca, I find myself surrounded by friends, some of them my best friends, and many of them a direct result of my time at the Johnson School.

So maybe when you escape business school and business school manages to follow, it is not always so bad. Even if you do not remember case studies or class notes, you do remember those who teach you, encourage you, and inspire you.

Even better is when they make you fall over laughing in the process. With graduation a short two months away, a complete relocation in only three, and a full-time time job waiting in Minneapolis at Target, I can only hope that as I escape Johnson School, Johnson School does not escape me.

Ngo is a member of Cornell's MBA Class of 2007.